“They were terrified.”
“Be not afraid, it is I.”
“Save me, Lord”
“Immediately, Jesus reached”
“Why did you doubt?”
We often fail to recognize Christ in fear and darkness, surrounded as we are by the chaos of a storm. His appearance, or our realization of his Eternal Presence, frightens us in the distance because we perceive him to be far away. We squint through the gray skies and pounding rain at the shadowy figure in the distance. The storm distorts our perception.
He draws near to us, in spite of our blurred vision, his first words being words of comfort.
He does not say, “Be not afraid, I can calm the storm,” but “Be not afraid, it is I.”
He alone is enough.
Are we calm enough to perceive him? Are we bold enough to find him in the gray skies, pounding rain and chaos? Are we strong enough to echo the words of Peter, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you”?
It is the same response, the same invitation given to us. He does not hesitate; he longs for his children to do the impossible, the unimaginable, the great. But we must first ask this of him.
Come to me in the unlikeliest of circumstances.
Come, see what I can do in your life.
Come, love my people.
Come, walk on water.
How long does it take us to turn our gaze away? Five minutes? A day? A month? We are more fickle than our brother Peter, who we often chide for his fear. Our boldness, “command me,” begins to drown so quickly. We cannot live up to the weight of Christ's response. We cannot imagine our own greatness. We fail to trust. We look away. The waves lap up around our ankles, already our clothes are splashed. The boat we so boldly stepped out of is now so far away. We are drowning.
“Save me, Lord!” we cry out with Peter.
The soft words: oh little one “why did you doubt?”
Why did we doubt?
The invitation remains: